


The Local Losers

by milkyuu



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Bullying, Gen, High School AU, Humiliation, Pantsing, wedgie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 08:23:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17484593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyuu/pseuds/milkyuu
Summary: Bing and King run into their least favorite bullies while running late to class one morning. Their best friend Yan would have defended and saved them from the bullies, if only she wasn't out sick.It's up to the two outcasts to defend themselves from Wilford and his clique of jocks. Will they make it to class on time or suffer from whatever bullying tactic they have in store?





	The Local Losers

**Author's Note:**

> just a warning, this fic contains bully, humiliation kink, pantsing, and wedgie kink. if that isn't your cup of tea, feel free to leave now. ♡
> 
> all characters in this are 18 year old seniors!! nobody is underaged!!
> 
> this was fun to write over the past two days!! im glad my favorite au is also the first fic i've written in 2019. might expand on more kinky stuff with this au if peeps ask :o 
> 
> please leave any feedback ya got down below, and thank you for reading!! i hope you enjoy!! :D

The leaves blew past them in the chilly morning breeze. Other students pass by with ease, small talk and gossip surrounding the two, each teen in their own little world. 

King stayed right beside Bing, bundled up in his thick red hoodie and ripped black jeans. Shivering as he adjusted his matching black scarf, almost overdressed for the cold. 

Meanwhile, Bing stayed warm in his zip up jacket and athletic sweatpants. 

"Bing," King sighed, "you're gonna get as sick as Yan if you don't wear something like a hoodie."

"Nah, bro. I'm fine in this! Track has me running in colder weather for practice," the ego joked, sipping at his water bottle, "besides, Yan only got sick because she wears skirts 25/8." 

"I miss her," King sighed, "think she's fine?"

"She text me last night. She said its just a fever and sick runny nose stuff. She'll be back in a few days, bro." Bing replied. Adjusting his backpack as the approached their beloved school campus, "at least I hope. She's...ya know..."

"Oh shit," King muttered. Realizing exactly what his dear friend met.

The trio had become somewhat of an underdog pack through their years together. Be it from freshmen year to their senior year, the three always stuck it out together. From Bing's victorious track team meet ups to King's failed P-SATs, the three always stayed together. 

That was especially the case for bullies. 

/Especially/ bullies who found joy in torturing what they called them, "The Local Losers".

Yan had always been there to fight off said bullies when she can. Using her weaponry lessons and sheer determination alone. But between being in art club, attending her practices, and the occasional cold -- she just can't always be there.

That was sadly the case this morning as King and Bing readied themselves to cross the street towards their high school campus. It's blue and black colors seeming to taunt them, the flagpole high above mocking them. 

"So, where do we go?"

The mere question alone made Bing swallow dryly. Fear in his eyes as he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jacket. The school name and his number from track now nothing more than a target. 

"Anti and his edgelord crew aren't by the front gates yet, and Bim and his wannabe Me//an Gi//rls group hang out towards the back near the science labs..."

"...How about we pass through the locker rooms? Mr. Garcia's class is literally right down the hall from it, we...we can make it."

Fear fills Bing's chest, checking his phone for the time. 

"We wouldn't have been this late if you didn't need to look for that scarf," Bing rolls his eyes.

"And freeze? Dude, you know I can't handle this cold."

Another sigh soon follows, Bing tugging at King's backpack strap. The heavy books helping shift King forward. 

"Alright, fine. Because I have no ideas and the bell rings in 15 minutes." Bing swallows down his fear once more. The lump in his throat still remaining as they passed each group of students. 

Can they really make it? 

When they know /damn well/ which clique hangs by the locker rooms?

//

Jumping the fence was easy enough. 

Slipping through Mr. Schneid's office was a breeze, even if Bing had to grab King by his scarf to get him to hurry along.

Hell, even sneaking into the locker rooms and avoiding detection was easy. King constantly keeping low as Bing ran as quietly as he could. 

They both gulped as they reached the exit towards the hall. Knowing what laid outside. The two teens nearly shivering in fear.

"God, I wish Yan was here..." King whispered, his brown eyes seeming to search for any signs of the doors breaking open. 

"Do you think Yan could take on...them?"

"Yan took down Anti and Dark two weeks ago with a plastic fork from the cafeteria, I'm pretty sure she could save us from these assholes."

"Point taken," Bing bites his lip. Staying determined as he could, sweat beading down his forehead, faintly aware of King's hand pushing the heavy door open.

"King, remember. Turn to the left, head down, turn to the right, and we're home free, dude."

King nodded, and finally opened the door.

//

Wilford stood by Google and Jameson. Their backs to the locker room, chatting up as they waited for the bell to ring. 

Lakeview High's own star athletes. 

Wilford, senior, captain of the football and basketball team. Perfect grades (thanks to cheating) and even more perfect abilities. Treated like a king anywhere he goes. He's the only student allowed a pink letterman jacket, proudly displaying his number. 

Google, senior, captain of the baseball and swimming team. Only got his nickname because he seems to be such a smartass in class. Wilford's right hand man in any and all classes and sports. Proudly wears his blue letterman with his fellow jocks. 

Jameson, another senior, captain of the wrestling team. Mute, but definitely makes his message clear with his threatening body language. Use to be sweet growing up, by after middle school, and an introduction to wrestling and boxing, turned sour as can be. Wears a blue letterman next to Google at all times while on campus. 

Wilford chuckled as he flashed his phone off to Google and Jameson, "look at this, fucking Anti got stabbed by some psycho."

"Who?" 

"I dunno, Dark barely told me right now. Maybe that one crazy bitch in Art. Yanna? Yanni? Yan-something." Wilford snickered. Jameson signing to the two, blue eyes staring back with sick glee.

'It's just Yan. She use to stalk Anti because she had some heavy crush on him. I remember watching her follow him to his car one time, taking pictures and videos.'

"And that's why you don't stick your dick in crazy--"

Wilford stops.

Just barely catching movement in the corner of his eye. Making out the number on the unknown's jacket with joy. 

"Hey, 23!"

//

They were /so fucking close/.

So close to making it without being spotted. So close to making it without pain or mocking. 

A shiver passes through them as they stop. King quietly cursing under his breath as heavy footsteps approached them. The empty hall only intensifying Bing's anxious thoughts. 

What will it be today? 

He squeaks as he feels someone pin him to the hard wall. Looking to his right to catch Jameson pinning down King. Smiling widely as he clutched at the scarf he wore. 

"You got a lot of nerve coming down here this early. I'd think nerds like you would keep away."

Wilford chuckles at the fear, the mere power, he has over Bing. Watching him quiver, whimpering ever so quietly. 

He smirks as he hears Google begin to record from his phone behind them.

"This is /our/ area. Our space away from little wannabe jocks like you, and little fucking weirdos like him over there." 

King mewls in pain as Jameson delivers a quick slap to his face, earning laughter from Google. 

The busier hallway is still so far away, nobody even looking in their direction. Bing, as compromised as he is, stays determined. Keeping his head low, his eyes glued to the floor.

Wilford laughs. Holding Bing tighter.

"Not much of a talker today? C'mon," Wilford encourages. His smile sickeningly sweet, his pink letterman shining in the light, "if you ask me to put you down nicely, I will..."

"Bing--" King coughs. The pressure Jameson has on him near bruising, his own scarf nearly choking him, "just get it over," another cough, "with. Not...Not worth it--" 

Finally, another cough gets Bing to look up. Hazel eyes meeting dark brown. Tension rising in the hall. Ever so aware of the phone in his face as anger and fear rose in him. His fists clenched as he swallows his pride.

God, he wishes Yan would speed down the hall and take care of these douchebags. 

"Put us down, please."

The three laugh, moving back as they do. King coughing as he gasps for much needed air, Bing gathering his fallen backpack. Staring down Wilford and Google as Jameson kicks his victim as he's down. 

"Hey, Google?"

"Yea?"

"I think we forgot to take something down..."

Bing stays on high alert. Watching as the gears move in Google's head, Wilford keeping that villainous smirk on his lips. The chatter of students much too far away down the hall to notice or care to stop the jocks. 

"Oh yes, we did."

"JJ, hold down Our Royal Majesty," Wilford smiles as he steps back, taking the phone from Google to record. Catching the movement of Jameson planting his foot down on King's backpack. Trapping him painfully to the smooth tiles. 

"Hey, Hey! You said you'd leave us alone! Stop it! You're hurting him, assholes--!"

"Oh no, Bing," Google stops him. His free hand grabbing Bing's chin, making him lock eyes with him. Bing's own hazel eyes wide in fear. Back to his cowardly quivering. Would he endure as much pain as King was now? 

"We never said we'd let you /go/. Only that we'd let you down!"

Bing flinches as Google makes a quick grab at him. Yelping just loud enough for the four to hear. Panting as the shuffle of fabric passed by him. 

Cool air hitting his now exposed thighs. Heat rushing to his cheeks as he screwed his eyes shut. The weight of his athletic sweatpants around his ankles only served to bring his pride down. 

"Oh, my /fucking/ god," Wilford laughed. Google snickering obnoxiously, their malice filled giggles only causing shame to fill in the pit of Bing's stomach. A dusting of red over his cheeks as he didn't dare move to cover himself. 

He didn't want to know the risks if he did.

"Bing wears little kids' undies, boys." Wilford gleefully announced, "look at that, fucking tighty whities. I thought this was high school, not elementary school." 

"You want to be a jock so badly, don't you? Jocks don't wear these little things," Google chuckles, reaching forward to grab at the waistband, pulling back and letting go to snap at Bing's hips. "You know who does? Hmm?"

"K-Knock it off..." Bing musters, "I...I just--"

"Fucking geeks and nerds do. You probably have your name written on this shit like some classic nerd stereotype, don't you?" Google asks. Tugging again at the waistband, letting it snap against Bing's tanned skin. 

King squirmed under Jameson's hold. Fear filling him -- he didn't care for himself, only in saving his friend from whatever humiliation tactics these assholes made up. 

"These really do live up to the name tighty whities," Google begins once more. Enjoyment filling him at the sight of Bing's eyes growing teary, "you're just /asking for us/ to mock you with these, nerd." 

Wilford clears his throat, giving Google a nod. 

"Google, turn him around."

"No! Guys, w-we won't come down this way again! Just stop!"

King was silenced by another kick to his side. Curling up in a ball, groaning as the pain slowly blossomed into a new bruise. His eyes flicking up to meet Jameson's own baby blues, bright with joy. 

Google does as he's told. Great minds think alike, especially in these terms. Seeming to get the same idea as Wilford as Bing finally reaches down to hide his bulge. The least he can do to protect his most private area.

Why did he have to wear this pair out of all days? 

Why didn't he listen to his parents and wash the night before? 

Why did he have to wear his spare tighty whities, the ones he only used during track meet ups to keep everything in place? 

He winces as he feels the harsh cold wall press against his own body. Bing's mind racing, what did they plan to do? Take more pictures of his underwear choices to send to the schoolwide e-mail system? Spank him so hard he wouldn't be able to sit like last semester? Or...

His worst fears are confirmed as he feels cold hands grab at his waistband, only this time -- they stay there. 

"You're asking for a lot more than mocking with these undies, Bing. Likes these!"

Bing yelps as he's lifted high up. Pain shooting up in between his ass cheeks as his tighty whities are yanked up. His own underwear pressing his balls and cock close to his body. A shiver running up his spine as he's lifted in the air. 

The other two groan in sick delight at how deep the wedgie was already, who knew Google could lift so much in one go?! 

"You're gonna split him in half, dude!" Wilford laughs, "aw, look at his faaaace! He's begging for more!"

"Google! Stop! Stop!" Bing yells, "I'll do anything! Fucking stoooop!"

"Too late, nerd. Should've thought about that," Google lowers him down, the tighty whities already resisting, a soft tearing being heard as the waistband slowly gives, "before wearing underwear for littles boys."

Bing barely has time to react as Google's cold hands grab at the back of his underwear's leg holes. Grabbing the stretched fabric, tugging up high again. Bouncing Bing like a rag doll, enjoying the pained expression on his face. Eyes teary, back arched, mouth caught in a low moan as his tighty whities wedge in deeper to his crack. 

A sense of shame and, surprisingly, excitement filled him in the deserted hallway. Blushing as he watched Google smile widely once more. Turning his pained face to the phone recording his humiliating situation. 

"This is number 23 on the track team folks," Wilford announces to the camera, "our very own Bing getting what he deserves for bothering us /real/ athletes, isn't that right Google?"

Google only gives a nod as he sets Bing down, tugging at the tighty whities once more. Each harsh pull resulting in another rip at the ruined waistband. Each rip causing the wedgie to rub against Bing's most sensitive areas more and more. Pain and pleasure shooting up his spine as he keeps his hands covering his bulge.

"Keep your hands down, nerd," Google warns, "not like there's much to hide, right?"

The three laugh at the comment. Bing's face burning up, his cock barely twitching. Responding to the comment in a way /he shouldn't have/. Groaning as the ripping continues. The tippy toes of his running shoes just barely touching the ground.

//

It's when Google holds Bing's underwear through the leg holes in one hand does King strike. 

Bing's begging and crying too much for him to handle. Wincing with the pressure of Jameson's heavy leather boots, the pained cry his friend gave, the fact nobody would save them from their continued abuse. 

What would Yan do? 

...She'd fight fire with fire. 

The idea stayed in King's head. Waiting for the opportunity to strike. Readying himself with slow even breaths. 

Grab Jameson's ankle, knock him down, get to Google, and grab Bing. 

Simple enough. King panted once more. The clock above the locker room entrance ticking by. Each moment wasted here was another detention they'd be written up for it they showed up late to Mr. Garcia's again. 

"C'mon Bing," Wilford cooed, "we still got 7 minutes to go before class--"

Now.

King grabbed Jameson's ankle, some new unfound strength and adrenaline pounding through his veins as he swung the jock's body down. His chest slamming with the floor as he cried out with weak vocal cords. 

Wilford dropped his phone to attend to the other, "what the fuck?!"

"Fuck you!" King kicked down Wilford. His upper body slamming down on the same hard tiled floor. Shouting in pain as he loses his footing, landing on top of Jameson. 

"And /fuck you!/"

King's original plan is thrown out the window as Google drops Bing. The wedgied ego panting in fear as he scrambles to pull his sweatpants back up to cover his shame. Blush as red as can be as he watches King make a grab for the last remaining jock's tight jeans. 

"King no--!"

Google stands dumbfounded as his jeans are hastily pulled down with all of King's might. His loose belt coming undone. Leaving him exposed as Bing was before.

His own tighty whities on display. Blue fabric and white band tight against his ass. His own (much larger) bulge exposed to the two. His name ever so neatly printed along the waistband, blue ink matching the blue fabric of the undies. Google's once mean smirk now an embarrassed shocked expression. 

"You fuckers--!"

Anger replaces his expression as soon as King grabs Bing and makes a run for it. Their shoes squeaking the floor as they round the corner to safety, mixing in with the hurrying students. Not daring to look back as they hear Google yell in pure hate.

"I'll fucking get you two assholes--"

Google only makes it as far as three steps before being tangled in his own jeans. Landing on top of Jameson's legs. Another pained groan coming from the pinned mute. 

The bell finally rings as the three slowly move, picking one another up. Wilford scoffing as Google slowly pulls his jeans back up, the pain in his shoulder from the fall aching deep in his muscles.

"I thought you said you were a boxers guy?"

"Shut the fuck up, Wil."

"Well shit, sorry for making you wedgie one of your own."

Jameson makes a pained noise as he pops his back. The two turning his way.

'Next time, you two handle the fucking weirdo. I'll do the wedge-ing.'

//

The late afternoon sun peers into the bedroom window. The orange sky just barely being made out from the open window. The light breeze moving the cream colored curtains with easy. Bringing a light chill to the bedroom. 

Yan sniffles as she guiltily looks back at Bing and King. Soft music from her Bluetooth speakers filling the room. 

Well, music and King's own excited retelling of their morning adventure. 

"Then I grabbed Bing like nothing and ran the fuck out of there with him! I'm telling you, like -- all my years at that hellish campus, and I didn't get scared shitless at those douchebags." King confessed, starry eyed as he crosses his arms. 

"I...kinda wish you were there to see it--"

Yan sipped at her orange juice before interrupting, "see Google in ugly tighty whities or see you two kick ass?"

"Both!" King chuckled, wrapping an arm around Bing. Much more calm now, although now regretting his decision to trash his ruined undies by second period. His sweatpants uncomfortable against his sore ass. 

He cracks a soft smile Yan's way as she looks at the two of them. Guilt evident in her stare. 

"Guys," she sniffled once more, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you two. I feel like such a bad friend, I should've made sure you two would've been safe without me there. I...I feel like I failed you--"

"Are you kidding?" Bing asks, his signature goofy smirk gracing his face, "you taught us how to kick ass on our own and we did. I didn't freak out like I usually did, and King here turned into some hero. Don't put yourself down for shit that's outta your hands, Yan."

The music takes over the silence as Yan sniffles. King handing her a lone box of tissues with ease. A sympathetic look in his gentle eyes making her heart nearly skip a beat. 

"Thanks guys. I...I just don't want assholes like Wilford messing with my two favorite people..." she admits, "I guess I don't gotta worry about that now that you two can fight off and even /humiliate/ guys like Google, eh?"

"I mean...it wasn't that bad," Bing admits, the same blush and heavy feeling of pleasure sinking in his gut. 

Yan and King raise an eyebrow at his words. What was Bing on about? How could a wedgie from Google not be the worst pain in the world?

"I -- I mean, it's not as bad as that time they gave me a swirly after P.E. exams! R-Right?" 

"Riiiiiiiight," Yan nods. The skeptic in her not exactly buying it, but hey, it's over and done with. Nothing more to say. 

"It's kinda funny you guys didn't think of this last night," King lays back on her bed, resting against her thighs. His golden brown eyes looking up at her red nose and face. 

"Don't you have a spare key to the art classroom for art club meetings? You could've just gave us the key to sneak in through the side of the school and walk in without trouble." King shrugged, "we could've got it on our way to school, too. With you living just a block away and all."

Yan and Bing share blank expressions. Their eyes wide as King yawns, grabbing a lone plushie of Yan's to cuddle.

"...well, shit." is all Bing can mutter. 

And so, ends another day at Lakeview High for two thirds of the famous clique known as The Local Losers. 

At least for now.

**Author's Note:**

> want more wedgie or pansting stuff? visit my tumblr, ghost-gies!!


End file.
